


Shades of Midnight

by lilacsandlavender



Series: Enola Holmes One-Shots [2]
Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: Cute, F/M, First Kiss, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27309214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsandlavender/pseuds/lilacsandlavender
Summary: Tewkesbury has an epiphany after reflecting on his and Enola's first kiss
Relationships: Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury
Series: Enola Holmes One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993813
Comments: 8
Kudos: 129





	Shades of Midnight

Before Enola, I never really understood why midnight was such a big deal. It was like society had collectively decided that 00:00 was the most significant time of the 24-hour measurement we call a day, and I suppose if I thought about it, I had to admit that it had _some_ sort of whimsical, magical, and mysterious air, that dawning of a new day. The only fact I could tell you relating to midnight was that the Nottingham catchfly, _Silene nutans_ , bloomed around at that time.

Anyways, it was around 15:00 one afternoon about a week ago when I’d been in my treehouse, and _it_ had happened:

I’d kissed her. I had kissed Enola Holmes.

I guess I should start from the beginning, though there really isn’t too much to it. I’d gotten away from the manor after piano lessons and met her in the tree like we usually did once every so often to catch up with each other’s lives. Her life was much busier and more interesting than any news I had to offer about Parliament, but I never minded. I was simply thrilled we were still in touch. And then she was laughing at the leftover-from-my-mother’s-tea-party mini sandwiches I’d packed in haste for us, and my body was slowly leaning towards hers before my brain could catch up.

All I was thinking about in that moment was how smart her mind was and how beautiful she looked, or maybe I was thinking about how much I’d _been_ wanting to kiss her ever since she’d told me in the flower market that she’d come to grow founder of me in my absence. Or maybe I hadn’t been thinking at all, my heart tossing caution into the wind and clearly overthrowing my head when it came to common sense. 

Warm. That was the first thing I noticed. Her lips were warm...and soft...and she tasted like green tea – which doesn’t sound super romantic, but it was perfect to me – and the gentle, hesitant pressure I had been applying on my end was reciprocated almost immediately, making blood roar in my ears with the flood of relieved news that I wasn’t making a huge mistake. 

The moment where my kiss ended and hers began was a blurred line because mid-kiss, I was suddenly overcome with the feeling of being _safe_ and _content,_ and it struck me that I’d never felt like this about anyone. The girls I danced with at previous Basilwether balls were nice, but after this kiss, I was confident there hadn’t been any real connection between me and them. Call it young love or call it foolishness, but as I smiled into Enola’s lips, there was no doubt that she had, in a way, become a home to me. 

She’d redecorated my late-night thoughts, and my desire to stare at her in admiration had bought a permanent residence inside my mind. If there was a tax on replayed memories, I wouldn’t have hesitated to dwell on the recollection of her eyes blinking at me after I’d proposed the idea of her staying with my family. Before Enola, I hadn’t needed to come up with an explanation on the spot as to why I was smiling out of the blue for no apparent reason. 

And then, as we pulled apart with her smiling shyly and me trying to catch my breath, it had dawned on me that _she was my midnight_. When I’m around her, she’s that magical moment of the day. She had that mysterious air, at first, since she didn’t act like a conventional lady in the least, but I grew fond of that atmosphere and have no intention of suppressing it. Some people are wary of the thought of midnight, since its associated with darkness, and stories often tell of ominous trades or vows at that time stamp, but my midnight? 

Mine had blushed as I tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and maybe it’s that kiss talking, seeing that I’m still head-over-heels in a pile unspoken, jumbled feelings, but I’m pretty sure that my version of 00:00 o’clock is the brightest light of my world.


End file.
